


The Devil's Own

by orphan_account



Category: Bestiality - Fandom, Extremely Underage - Fandom, extreme horror, underage - Fandom
Genre: Baby, Bestiality, Birth, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Boys in Chains, Child Abuse, Child Torture, Creampie, Dark, Deal with a Devil, Demon Deals, Dismemberment, Extremely Underage, F/M, Faustian Bargain, Genital Mutilation, Genital Torture, Girls in Chains, Impregnation, Infant Sex, Masochism, Motherhood, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Mutilation, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Older Woman/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Other, Painful Sex, Pedophilia, Pregnancy Kink, Public Sex, Rape, Rapist - Freeform, Rough Sex, Sadism, Sexual Violence, Snakes, Torture, Underage - Freeform, Underage Masturbation, Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Underage Sex, Voyeurism, Wealth, Wolf Sex, cervix, child gang bang, child sex, creampie gang bang, infant rape, little boy gang bang, snake sex, womb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:40:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23454175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ellen is ready to do whatever it takes to land a good acting gig. So when some friends tell her about the mysterious M, who will make all of her dreams of stardom come true, she finds herself waiting in front of a door in a run down part of town. What awaits her within is a bacchanal of depravity, where no one is safe from desires of M, who appears on the surface to be a tall, blond haired man in a black suit. But Ellen soon discovers he is much more than that.Dark themes such as infant rape, child gang bang, bestiality, snake sex, underage impregnation, child torture, etc. Please read tags.
Relationships: M/Ellen, girl/helhounds, men/children, slave/slavemaster
Comments: 9
Kudos: 155





	The Devil's Own

Like many who shed their ordinary lives in hopes of great splendor, Ellen Grady believed her new life in LA would be filled with days spent on movie sets, learning her lines while assistants brought her things life copious amounts of coffee, along with those little sandwiches she liked. In reality, what she ended up with was countless hours in a diner, dealing with make customers who thought it entirely appropriate to smack strange women on the rear if they believed she was not looking. It was a hard, miserable life. She hated it with every fiber of her being.

Then, when she thought all hope was lost, Ellen heard about M.

He didn’t have a name. Or at least, not that Ellen was aware of. She first heard about him from some old friends who had not yet given up the dream of becoming famous. They told her that, in certain circles, it was whispered there was a figure known only as M who had connections to the biggest directors in Hollywood, and, for a certain price, he could make all a girl’s dreams come true. Ellen had of course just scoffed at all of the talk, chalking it up to the tall tales of people who were struggling to get out of the bottomless holes they had dug for themselves in life.

Then, one day after a particular grueling shift, a customer had left a white card on her table in lieu of a tip. It was pristine looking, with a neat script flowing across the expensive looking parchment. It contained one Letter, followed by an address.

M  
3121 Fawning St.

Ellen stared down at the card, wondering if one of her friends was playing some kind of joke. She passed along Fawning every day on her way to walk. It was located along a street of run down buildings, the apartments long since emptied, windows boarded up, paint peeling from the walls. It always struck her as curious no mogul had ever bought it to fix up to make a ton of money off of. Instead, it just sat there, broken down, decrepit. Ellen gave a grimace, before walking into the kitchen to throw the note in the trash.

Later on that night, walking home from the diner, Ellen was surprised to see that one of the lights on Fawning street was on. She paused mid stride, her eyes roaming over the street behind her. There was no one except her out at this time of night. No cars lined the street in front of the apartment building. Not even a dog or bird moved in the enveloping darkness. Hesitantly, she found herself moving closer to the lit up apartment building. 

Her eyes fell upon the large brass numbers next to the lion shaped door knocker.

3121

As if in a dream, Ellen found herself wandering up the short flight of steps, and there was a startling sense of finality in each step she took. It was as if her entire life had always been the lie she was running from. And now, gazing up the door, her hand upon the knocker, she was finally arriving at the greater truth.

On the second knock, the door opened of its own accord, and Ellen found herself stepping into a place far removed from Fawning Street. The door opened up into a cavernous entry hall bathed in gold, the wallpaper covered in thick gold flecking. The floor, by comparison, was covered in a ruby carpet, and, as she watched, something alive seemed to wiggle deep within its depths. A shudder passed through her, followed by a yelp of surprise as several figures ran out of a door down the hall. They were tall, naked figures, covered in chains, fleshy protrusions trailing along in their wake.

A small hand reached out to take her own. 

Ellen looked down to find a girl of about six or so, her cherubim face covered in a thick white paint, lips painted ruby red. Her small frame was naked except for the large spiked collar around her neck. There was a long chain trailing from her neck, stretching behind her all the way down the hallway. 

“We’ve been waiting for you,” the girl tells Ellen, using what little strength she possessed to pull the grown women inside.

Once inside, Ellen was surrounded on all sides by the throes of an elegant party. Old style music played from somewhere deep in the bowels of the house. Everywhere she looked, gentlemen in black suits stood around drinking from glasses of champagne, offered from silver trays carried by naked slave children, boys as well as girls. Confetti littered the marble floor, making a trail that went all the way down the long corridor the child was leading Ellen down.

“What is this place,” Ellen asked her, her gaze taking in the jagged claw marks going down the golden flecked wall. The deeper they moved into the house, the more wild looking it appeared, less a place of men than of beasts.

“Oh, we exist in all places,” the slave girl told her, her voice far deeper than Ellen would have thought possible. There was a deep, throaty cadence to the child’s voice, as if she were drowning, and the words could only escape through a deep gurgle. 

Doors were open along the corridor.

“Why don’t you have a look,” the girl told her, letting go of Ellen’s hand. “We are all a little mad here. You’ll see.”

The first door opened onto a large ballroom, with a group of men standing in circles around tables piled high with rotten food. The sound of screams echoed off the cavernous walls. Ellen caught sight of a small pair of legs poking out on either side of each man’s waste. As the men walked about, she saw that each was clutching a naked infant to their crotches, buried up to the balls in their tiny holes. The screaming baby's had chains covering their tiny bodies, hooks digging into their skin, connecting them to the men’s torn up flesh. The men stood drinking their champagne, seemingly oblivious to the writhing, screaming bundles hanging off of them.

Ellen bit back a scream, bile rising up into her throat as she continued making her way down the hall.

The next door contained what appeared to be the inside of a large barn. In several long stalls, little girls of about six or so were bent over on all fours on deep piles of straw. Large, woolly haired wolf like creatures were bent over them, giant red phallus's buried deep in their small cunts. The girls cried out as the beasts violently rode them, their bodies thrown forward against the stall doors as the beasts had their way. In the last stall, Ellen saw a girl, stomach swollen up so much it looked as if the skin might burst, giving birth to the first of many monstrosities. The straw under her naked body was covered in blood and gore, her large breasts suckled on by two of her young. Another whelp was busy tearing a hunk of flesh from the girl’s labia, tearing off a huge chunk, along with her clitoris, and swallowing it all whole before starting in on the flesh of her inner thigh.

In another doorway, Ellen found a room full of chains. Severed body parts, all seemingly still containing life, twisted this way and that from hooks hanging from the ceiling. Most of the intact bodies were children, mouths and asses pierced through with spikes, which kept them suspended in mid air. A few of them tried to call out to her as she passed by, their vocal cords so mangled from their various tortures, their voices came out in horrid, throaty gasps.

The girl paused before the last door on the left.

Ellen settled herself to confront the next horror, but the door opened onto what appeared to be an ordinary library. The room was even more massive than the ballroom, with endless rows of books going in all directions, the only light being a row of torches along one wall. Ellen looked over her shoulder, finding the slave girl had disappeared down the corridor. She gave herself a moment to collect her composure, before going deeper into the faintly lit room. There was something magical about this place. It was both nightmare and dream, the books on the shelves all the favorite titles from her childhood. But how could that be possible? 

“I’ve been waiting for you, Ellen.”

All of the corridors of books led to one small alcove, a clearing in which a desk had been placed before a raging fire. A tall man in a black suit sat in the cushions of a high backed chair. As Ellen came closer, she saw he was a distinguished man in his late fifties, a head of thick blond hair rising up off his head like a crown. For the brief second, Ellen thought she caught a glimpse of red fire in his eyes, but then the moment passed and she saw that they were a human shade of blue.

“Please, sit,” the man replied, gesturing to the seat across from him.

Ellen sat, not sure what else to do.

The man in the black suit slid a sheaf of paper across the desk. Ellen stared down at it, the flickering light from the fire illuminating the elegant lettering written across the page. It was not in any language she had seen before.

“What do you want from me?”

The man, who she could only assume was the figure known only as M, gave a deep throated chuckle, the sound moving over her skin like a warm caress. “Oh, nothing much. Just a few things. Paltry, compared to what you want.”

“What is it that you think I want?”

M took a golden pen out of his pocket. He placed it on top of the parchment, gazing into Ellen’s eyes as he did so. Yes, she knew at that moment his eyes were really red, the blue just an illusion. Though how such an illusion was possible she did not know.

“Sign it, Ellen. Leave your life behind. Be part of something greater.”

Looking down, her hands shaking, Ellen wrote her name across the bottom of the parchment.

*****************************************************************************************************

One moment, Ellen was sitting across from the man in the black suit, having a conversation she would never be able to recall in any detail, the next she was lying naked on a bed. Her eyes gazed up at the ceiling, to find that there was a balcony up there, several faces gazing down at her from the shadows. The music she had heard earlier in the parlor had returned, this time turning into the same melody as a music box she had been given as a child. The sad, haunting notes slid over her flesh, erupting into rows of goose flesh. Her mind grew hazy, a sick kind of warmth flowing over her body as the music continued to play.

As she watched, spellbound, a group of young boys came up to the bed. They ranged in age from seven to nine years old, their necks adorned with heavy chains, which trailed behind them into the darkness of the room. Invisible hands grabbed her body, pulling her downwards until she was half hanging off the bed. A blond haired boy knelt down between her legs, licking her pussy until it was soaking wet. Ellen gasped, her fingers tangling in his soft hair, her body thrown into endless spasms, as his tongue plunged into her silky depths.

The orgasm was still rushing through her as the boy stood back up. He grabbed her legs, holding them open as he plunged his cock into her pussy, his hairless balls rubbing against her hot cunt. The other little boys rubbed themselves, gathering closer to run their hands over Ellen’s body. Their hungry mouths came down to suckle her breasts, to lick the sweat off of her skin. One of the boys leaned over to run his tongue in circles around Ellen’s swollen clit, driving her on to another orgasm as the chained boy continued to fuck her on the bed, his fingers digging into legs as he came inside of her, filling her pussy with a warm spurt of cum.

When he was finished, another boy took his place. This one was frantic with the desire to cum, only lasting a couple of thrusts before he came inside of her with a high pitched cry. Then another boy was upon her, his cock adding its own mess to the goo oozing from her cunt. Ellen looked up, noticing that the men watching her had their own cocks out, stroking themselves as the boys took turns enjoying her. Eventually, one of the men came, his cum falling down to cover her naked body, mixing with that of the boy’s. 

Ellen lost count of the boys who rode her to orgasm. After a while, it occurred to her that time passed differently here. That she had been on this bed, getting filled with cum, not for hours or days even, but for years. She wasn’t sure how she knew this. It was much like how information comes to someone in a dream. Her mind was no longer her mind. Instead, she belonged to the house, to the men who came and went in the balcony over her head. But, most of all, she belonged to the mysterious figure, M.

On one of the many nights upon the bed, M came to visit her. He didn’t come in the form he had chosen to show her on the night they first met. There was no black suit, no sparkling blue eyes, hiding the demonic gleam. Instead, a huge albino snake slivered across the bed sheets, pushing one of the little boys out of the way, the child’s cock still dripping cum as he withdrew from her raw cunt.

ARE YOU READY TO BE GREAT

Ellen, eyes half closed, still lost in the pleasures of the flesh, could not even fight the snake off as he wrapped himself around her. There was a crushing pressure between her legs, as his snake form wrapped tightly over her cunt, his tail going around one of her legs. A second later, she felt something slide inside of her, something warm, hot, and slick.

NOOOOOOOOOO

The internal scream was followed by a deep, guttural hiss. The organ inside of her cunt pulsated, its tip pressing with merciless thrusts deep into her cervix, then past her cervix, reaching up all the way inside of her womb. Then, with the sound of her screaming mingling with the excited murmurs of the crowd above, the serpent came inside of her, scalding her tender insides. The volleys of hot cum kept filling her up, until the skin of her belly swelled up, the flesh almost bursting as her womb stretched to accommodate the serpent’s seed.

When the snake was finished with her, he slithered off of the bed, leaving her a swollen, cum covered mess. Her body fell almost at once into spasms, and it occurred to her, with a mounting sense of horror, that M had not just fucked her, he had impregnated her with his young. Pressing down as hard as she could, Ellen pushed with her internal muscles, a large, smooth object working its way out of her tortured slit.

It was a large, white egg.

The boys stood around the bed, taking the eggs as they came out of her. The spasms went on and on, as Ellen gave birth to several clutches of eggs. Just as she thought the birthing was over with, another round of cramps would overwhelm her, culminating in another egg stretching her open. 

GOD, PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP 

*****************************************************************************************************

Ellen opened her eyes, to find that she was once more standing in the middle of Fawning Street.

There was no light in the building she was standing in front of. No music drifted out from inside. Her hand was still reaching out for the lion shaped door knob, only to find that it was no longer upon the door. Shivering, Ellen turned to walk back the way she had come. At home, there was a nice meal waiting for her in the fridge, a lonely night to spend sitting in front of the TV, catching up on the evening news. 

It wasn’t real, she said to herself. And yet, deep down, she knew there was a reason why she had been standing in front of that door. She had been in that place, she knew. She had seen the terrible things that took place there. And, for a while, she had been a part of those unholy things herself.

But, though she was loath to admit such a thing, Ellen felt a surge of joy upon the memory of what M had promised her. Somehow, she knew that the next few weeks would be a whirlwind of phone calls, telling her that she had been chosen every role she had tried out for. Agents would be calling her, all competing to make her their own. Magazines, TV shows, films, nothing would be outside of her grasp. The world would be hers now, because she belonged to M.

And M always keeps his promises.


End file.
